


Be My Elf

by hit_the_books



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Activist Misha Collins, Alternate Universe, Betaed, Christmas Fluff, Finding Holiday Cheer, Fluff, Gen, Hospitals, Prompt Fic, Shy Jensen Ackles, charity work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9007786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: Home for Christmas, Misha tries to bring some holiday cheer to his good friend Jensen by asking him to volunteer at a local pediatric ward on Christmas Eve.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarcyDelaney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarcyDelaney/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, DarcyDelaney. I hope you enjoy how I've filled your shy!Jensen and activist!Misha prompt.
> 
> Thanks to [braezenkitty](http://archiveofourown.org/users/braezenkitty) and [museaway](http://archiveofourown.org/users/museaway) for beta reading this fic.

Christmas was the time of year that Misha tried super hard to reconnect with the people he cared about in his life. A visit to family here, a party with friends there. He spent so much time helping complete strangers during the rest of the year that he tried to give back to the people who made him _him_ when it was Christmas time.

There was an inevitability to the way Misha’s legs tangled with Jensen’s as the two of them sat opposite each other at a table in Jensen’s favorite bar. It had been some weeks since Misha had had time to hang with his good friend, but Jensen had a habit of not asking Misha to come see him outside of Christmas. Always worried that he was taking up too much of anyone’s time. Worried that Misha had had enough of him—and Misha would only ever hear about this when he asked Jensen why he hadn’t wanted to hang for some time. It was a cycle and one that Misha had yet to break Jensen out of.

Jensen was quickly typing out a reply to a text from their friend Jared who was trying to make eggnog for his family and had forgotten Jensen’s family’s recipe. But as Misha watched Jensen’s fingers tap over his phone’s screen, Misha could tell there was no real joy behind what Jensen was doing. It was methodical and to the point. Studying Jensen’s gelled crown of dark blond hair, his simple maroon knitted sweater, the tension in Jensen’s shoulders—Misha could tell that his friend was having a hard time finding some holiday cheer. He’d gone for a beer rather than the mulled cider he’d normally order at this time of year.

Not that Jensen Ackles would ever admit that he was feeling just that touch deflated during the holidays—it was a week until Christmas Day—but Misha could tell. And he knew that Jensen would never make anyone worry about him, remaining reserved and unassuming. It was time to bring Jensen out of his shell a little and help bring some cheer.

“I know I usually take December off,” Misha began, observing how Jensen’s eyes snapped to his the moment he began, “but I’ve been asked to help out on one little project during the week.”

Jensen stowed his cell and quirked an eyebrow. “Project?”

“Nothing super formal, it’s just… I’m in the market for an elf.”

“Sorry, what?” Jensen gave him a confused frown.

Scratching at the dark scruff on his cheeks, Misha picked up his glass of mulled cider, feeling its heat radiating from the handled glass. “Right, why do I need an elf…” Misha muttered more to himself than Jensen before clearing his throat. “I’ve been asked to be Santa for an afternoon at pediatrics over at St. David's.”

“Santa.” Jensen picked up his beer bottle and took a sip.

“Right, Santa handing out presents to sick kids who won’t be home for Christmas. And I could really do with an elf to help me out,” Misha said, looking into Jensen’s eyes.

Jensen shifted in his seat and looked away. “Why don’t you ask Jared?”

“No one’s going to believe that Jared’s an elf,” Misha pointed out.

“And? I’m—”

“Still shorter than me,” Misha cut in. “I’ll be wearing slightly heeled boots, so I’ll be taller than usual. You’ll be perfect.”

Pushing a little away from the table, Jensen shook his head. “Why don’t you ask Felicia? Or Osric? They are clearly elf material.”

Chuckling, Misha put his drink down. “And they’re not you,” Misha said with maybe more feeling in his voice than he’d meant to have. But there it was, and Jensen was looking adorable in his sweater, even if it wasn’t specifically a holiday one.

A light blush crept onto Jensen’s cheeks and he ducked his head. “But kids? I’m crap with kids,” Jensen said, rubbing coyly at the back of his neck.

“Oh, c’mon,” Misha snorted, “what about when you were stuck with Jared, Gen and their two last year? During that storm? Word is you stopped the whole lot of them dying from boredom when the power cut out.”

“Okay, okay,” Jensen replied. He rubbed at his neck again. “Do… I have to wear an outfit?”

Misha knew he couldn’t push too much, so he shook his head. “Just a hat with a bell on it and a holiday sweater. I’ll bring the hat, you bring the sweater. Up to you how awful it is.”

Nodding, a small smile on his lips, Jensen’s shoulders relaxed and he finally looked Misha in the eyes again. “You may live to regret that, Mish.”

Picking up his mulled cider, Misha shrugged. “Do your worse, Ackles. Just keep it PG-13. We are giving presents to kids after all.”

***

Riding the elevator up to pediatrics, Jensen nervously pulled at the neck of his sweater. A festive red, with the outline of a Christmas tree on the front, if he pushed a button on the front bottom hem, the tree came to life with twinkling tiny lights, like an actual Christmas tree. But he’d yet to turn on the lights and Misha had given his sweater a puzzled look when he’d appeared in it.

Being out with Misha like this was a little nerve-racking, but he knew it was good to be out of the house for something other than work. He’d been so caught up in just existing that year—going to his job at an investment firm; eating; sleeping; rinse and repeat—that Jensen had forgotten what it was like to just step outside of his routine and do something fun or different. Jensen had had such big plans for the year—learn how to draw; see the Grand Canyon; maybe even fall in love—but none of it had happened, because he’d allowed work to rule his life.

Beside Jensen, Misha was already dressed up in a red velvet Santa suit. Boots making him taller, like he’d promised they would. He already had on the fake beard and a wig, plus a set of thin gold framed glasses to help make the thirty four year old look older than he really was. Misha made a pretty convincing Santa Claus.

“Here,” Misha said, proffering a green and red velvet elf hat to Jensen.

There were three gold bells attached to the hat’s long tip. Jensen took the hat and put it on, then swished his head, the bells jingled with the movement. He didn’t know why, but he smiled. “Thank you.”

“All you need to do is to check the sack of presents and hand me the correct kid’s gift when they tell me their name.” Misha laid a reassuring hand on Jensen’s shoulder and squeezed. “You’ll do great.”

The elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open with a ping. Misha led the way out and the two of them made their way to the nurses’ station for the pediatrics unit. Jensen had never been there before, but the male nurse that greeted them seemed to know Misha.

“Misha, good to see you,” greeted the short, tawny haired man, as he slapped Misha on the back. His scrubs were covered in candy canes.

“And you, Rich. So, Jensen, Rich. Rich, Jensen.” Misha smiled and Jensen relaxed a little when Rich grinned at him.

“And you must be Santa’s helper. Okay, the kids are almost all in the day room,” Rich explained, stepping behind the nurses’ station. Rich hefted up a large black cloth sack and brought it round to Jensen. “This is for you. Time to get this show on the road,” said Rich handing the sack to Jensen. He turned on his heel and started for the day room.

The sack was heavy, but manageable. Pulling the sack up over his shoulder, Jensen followed Rich and Misha to the day room. Inside the colorful room, decked out for Christmas with its own artificial tree, fairy lights and tinsel over more surfaces than Jensen had ever thought possible, sat a throng of children watching a film on a flat screen. Ten of them in all, some were on bean bags on the floor, a few sat in wheelchairs, drips in tow. A group of parents and guardians stood nearby, smiles a little forced—it was Christmas Eve and their children weren’t home.

For a second, Jensen wasn’t sure about any of this, the hat on his head suddenly heavy and so he took a deep steadying breath. Calming down, Jensen reminded himself that it was all for the kids. Jensen reached a hand to the hem of his sweater just as Misha let out a rumbling “ho, ho, ho” and flicked on his sweater’s lights. The children and adults turned in unison, true smiles breaking out on all their faces, the younger kids amazed that Santa was there, the older ones grinning with appreciation that something so sappy was happening for them.

In that brief moment, Jensen’s heart felt like it would melt. He drew in a breath and called out, “Who’d like to come up first and get their present from Santa?” Misha side eyed him with a smirk of approval.

A couple of kids shot their hands up into the air, eager to be first. Misha laughed deeper than usual and made his way over to a sturdy leather armchair that had been set up for him. Stepping over beside the chair, Jensen put the sack of gifts down.

Soon Misha had his first giftee perched on his lap, her dad holding her there while she giggled, dark curls bouncing. Jensen listened carefully as Misha asked, “And what’s your name, little girl?”

The girl said something in a whisper and Misha said out loud, “Karrin. It’s so lovely to meet you…”

Letting Santa and Karrin talk, Jensen focused on the sack, looking through the gift wrapped presents there until he found something soft that had been labeled as for Karrin. Jensen passed the present to Santa and Santa passed the present to Karrin who took the gift and whispered “thank you” to Santa.

None of the gifts were extravagant, just well made and things the kids would like. Teddy bears here, arts sets there, LEGO, books and crochet hooks. Each gift lit life into its recipient’s eyes.

Watching kid after kid sit on Misha’s lap, stand beside him or sit beside him; listening to Christmas music softly playing from the abandoned TV; seeing the kids open their presents and showing them off to the family they had there—Jensen’s throat felt thick with emotion. To see so many people brought together and so happy in spite of their circumstances: Jensen felt good to have been a part of it.

When it came time for Santa and his elf to leave, Jensen waved enthusiastically to the children and was about to turn, when Karrin got up from where she’d been doodling and toddled over to Jensen and Misha. In her hand was a piece of paper and when Karrin reached them, she handed it to Jensen.

“For you,” whispered Karrin, then she shot forward, hugging Jensen around his legs before toddling back over to where her dad was before Jensen could say thank you. He turned the piece of paper over and found a picture of Santa and him, holding presents, drawn in crayons. Jensen handed the drawing to Misha once they were in the elevator.

“Who drew this?” Misha asked.

“Karrin,” Jensen replied, taking the picture back. “It’s good.”

“It is… Merry Christmas, Jensen,” Misha said as the elevator continued downwards. He smiled softly at Jensen.

Heart lighter than what it had been, feeling like he could do anything, Jensen smiled back at Misha. “Merry Christmas, Mish.”

The whole afternoon had been unlike anything Jensen had experienced all year. He sighed as the lift reached the first floor, finally feeling like it was Christmas.

The doors opened. “Join me for a drink?” Misha asked.

“Sure.” Jensen grinned at Misha and his friend returned the smile.

This time they both had mulled cider.


End file.
